v1c3 - 2

The Gillette Corps had parked their mechanized vehicle in the trading plaza in the eastern part of the city.

For Gillette and his team, tasked with long-term, wide-ranging operations, the large mechanized vehicle April served as both transportation and lodging. Having returned from their meeting with Lord Roberto Abarth, the Gillette Corps planned to rendezvous with Mateus Callaway, who had arrived earlier, inside the April to hold a strategy meeting.

—But.

“What’s the matter?”

Mateus, wiping camouflage paint from his face with a towel, said as he returned.

Normally, with camouflage patterns drawn from his chin to the crown of his bald head, this short-statured mage’s face was hard to discern clearly from the front but once the paint was removed, a round face with narrow eyes and a certain charm emerged.

He looked somewhat exasperated as he surveyed the central cabin of the April.

This cabin room, essentially the equivalent of a living room in a house, was designed to be the largest, accommodating everything from meetings to meals. Ahead of it was the driver’s cabin, and behind it were the crew’s small which was almost burrow-like—bedrooms and a cargo hold.

That aside.

“Can’t you tell?”

Knight Alberic Gillette said, his refined face tinged with fatigue.

The Gillette Corps members gathered in the central cabin were all seated on the built-in sofas, looking thoroughly fed up. None of them were smiling but the one with carrying the grimmest expression was Vivi Holopainen.

This girl, the youngest in the Gillette Corps alongside Zita, was sitting upside-down on the sofa with only her back visible from Mateus’s position—while throwing something at a small piece of wood placed against the wall.

What was that you ask? —Needles.

With a dry sound, the umpteenth needle stabbed into the wood.

By the way, the wood had crudely carved facial features and the name “Roberto Abarth” etched into it.

It was, to put it mildly, a treatment radiating intense hostility and resentment.

“…Oh. The usual.”

Mateus nodded with an understanding expression.

“The usual, indeed. For the most part.”

Nikolai Aftotol, Gillette’s second-in-command, said with a wry smile.

This burly, warrior-like man pointed at Vivi and said.

“It was just unusually short this time. The meeting, that is. So she’s in a foul mood.”

“I understand.”

Mateus looked at Vivi again.

Her back was still all he could see, but it wasn’t hard to imagine her youthful face twisted in a scowl. This young assassin could suppress her emotions with terrifying precision during missions, but as a backlash, her joys, anger, sorrows, and pleasures surged to the surface the moment she was off-duty.

“Six minutes and seventeen seconds, to be exact.”

The one who spoke was Zita, who, like Vivi, had accompanied Alberic to Lord Roberto Abarth’s mansion. This girl, still youthful herself, had small glasses perched on her nose.

“A new record.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Vivi turned to Zita, puffing out her cheeks.

Despite her astonishing skill in throwing needles, she looked age-appropriate—or even younger than her actual age—in this moment.

“Talking like it’s not your problem. You were mad too, Zita!”

“Haha. But it feels like you got mad enough for both of us. I’m over it.”

Zita laughed breezily.

These two, with entirely different backgrounds and titles, somehow looked like sisters when together. Perhaps it was simply because they were the only women in the Gillette Corps and close in age but even more than that, they seemed to get along well.

“Sorry, as always—both of you.” Alberic said with a faint, bitter smile. “I know it’s unpleasant for you, but I’d be even more suspicious if I went alone without attendants. Still, next time, I’ll bring someone else—”

“Gillette-sama.” Vivi sighed and said. “It’s because you’re like that—”

“W-what? Where is it my fault!?”

Alberic blinked, flustered.

He looked around at his comrades as if seeking an explanation—

“Gillette-dono.” Nikolai said, grinning. “How about you figure it out by now? Vivi and Zita aren’t mad because they were treated rudely—you know?”

“Hm?”

Alberic tilted his head.

He genuinely seemed clueless.

“Because you, Gillette-dono—”

“Enough! Shut up!”

With a whoosh, Vivi swung her hand.

The next instant, Nikolai raised his hand before his face, as if wiping a window.

“That was close.”

In Nikolai’s thick palm—no, between his fingers—a single needle was caught.

He’d snatched the needle Vivi threw mid-air. Catching such a barely visible object in flight was undeniably a feat of top-tier skill, but Nikolai showed no pride in it, and the others showed no surprise.

Instead—

“Shut up, be quiet! Stupid Nico!”

Blushing slightly, Vivi shouted to cut off his words.

Zita, also faintly red-cheeked, looked down shyly—

“What did I do?”

“It’s nothing. Really, nothing at all.” Nikolai said, raising his hand as if taking an oath—still holding the needle between his fingers. “Please forget it.”

“……Very well.”

Alberic nodded, a hint of confusion on his refined face.

Mateus, observing the scene for a while, looked up at the ceiling and sighed deeply—

“Well, it’s the usual affair, just with varying degrees, isn’t it?”

The noble’s reception, Vivi and the others’ displeasure, and Alberic’s excessive obliviousness, all of it.

In truth… the Gillette Corps were almost never welcomed wherever they went.

Most likely, their hosts thought them swindlers hiding behind a noble title. Hardly surprising. Only a complete fool or someone oddly resolute in a peculiar way would obediently hand over their treasures when told, “We can’t explain why, but it’s dangerous, so give it up.”

“On the surface, it was polite noble-to-noble interaction.”

Alberic said, shrugging. 

“That’s problematic.”

Mateus said.

“There’s no doubt she’s entered this city. Based on her travel route, she’s definitely targeting Count Abarth.”

“Indeed.”

Alberic nodded.

“……Is there truly no way to disclose the details?”

“Not as such.”

Alberic said with a bitter expression.

“I’ve stationed Leonardo to keep watch, but it’d be wise for us to be ready to move quickly if something happens. However...the mansion gave me an odd impression.”

“Odd...how so?”

“There were strangely few guards. Well—no, that’s not quite right. There were plenty outside the mansion, but inside, there were hardly any signs of guards stationed. Even the guard posts were all outside. It didn’t feel like it was built that way originally and it seemed more like it had been altered to be that way.” Alberic said, closing his eyes as if projecting the memory in his mind. “Of course, it’s questionable whether she could even reach the Count Abarth mansion alone. But if she blunders and gets captured by Abarth, that’s another issue entirely.”

“—Regarding that.” Mateus said, frowning. “There’s a possibility she’s acquired allies by now. And quite skilled ones at that.”

“W-what did you say?”

“The Unicorn I’d bound with magic was killed which I hadn't expect.”

At those words, the expressions of the Gillette Corps members shifted.

Even Vivi stopped throwing needles and turned to look at Mateus.

“I acted on my own, thinking it was a chance since I’d caught sight of her. I set it up, but…”

“‘Caught sight’? Nonsense. A mage took down a Unicorn in close combat?”

Nikolai said, his face skeptical.

“It seems her magic dealt the killing blow. But before that, someone apparently bought time for her to prepare and aim the spell. If they’re still together, it could be troublesome.”

……

The Gillette Corps exchanged glances.

“It’d be too conspicuous for all of us to go. Vivi, Nikolai, I’m sorry, but please prepare. We can’t interfere in Abarth’s internal disputes, but—just in case.”

“Understood.”

Nikolai nodded, and Vivi nimbly hopped off the sofa.

Preparing the necessary tools and props for the job took half a day.

Most of what they needed was covered by the items they’d brought from the Acura village, but some had gone damp or spoiled over time. Such perishable consumables had to be procured anew in Del Solant—or, if that wasn’t possible, they’d need to buy raw materials and make them themselves.

Having finished shopping with the money borrowed from Chaika, Toru returned to find Chaika at home, her coffin open, tinkering with her magical staff.

“Welcome back.”

Chaika said, turning to him.

Apparently, Akari was preparing in another room. Saboteurs weren’t limited to melee combat with weapons. Sometimes they used poison or sedatives, and for locks that couldn’t be picked, strong acids were employed. But since many such chemicals weren’t sold, they had to mix or create them themselves.

Handling chemicals was dangerous if mishandled, so it was customary to do it alone in a separate room.

That aside—

“Yeah… I’m back.”

“…?”

Perhaps noticing Toru’s steady gaze—Chaika turned back to him, tilting her head.

“What?”

“No, just… what’s with that weird coffin, anyway?”

……

Chaika, prompted by Toru, glanced at the coffin propped against the wall.

“I mean, who are you, really? Breaking into a lord’s mansion isn’t exactly normal—but what’s the point of lugging around a coffin like that?”

If she just needed to carry her magical staff, a smaller bag would suffice. As a substitute for a sleeping bag, a foldable cloth one would be enough, not something this large. And from what he’d seen, the coffin was mostly empty.

“Coffin is coffin.” Chaika said. “Vessel for the dead.”

“It’s empty, isn’t it?”

“For now.”

Chaika’s expression didn’t waver as she answered.

Did that mean someone was slated to occupy it later?

But by who?

It couldn’t possibly be an enemy. There’d be no point in placing an enemy in a coffin for burial.

So, someone close to her, then? That seemed unlikely too. Human nature would want a loved one to stay alive, and if they were already dead… if she knew that, there’d be no reason for the coffin to be empty now. It was possible she’d heard of a distant acquaintance’s death, but it made little sense for a young girl like her to carry a coffin along with her for that purpose.

Or perhaps—this coffin was for “one destined to die.”

For Chaika herself, maybe?

“Who’s going in it? Who’s going to die? Or who already died?”

……

Chaika shook her head vaguely.

Was it “I can’t say” or “I don’t know”? Toru had yet to know.

He could’ve pressed her further but—

“My duty.” Chaika said firmly. “My duty…To do. Duty. Mission. Purpose. Absolute. Even if—it takes my whole life.” Chaika said with a bright smile. “Do my best.”

……

Toru was at a loss for words.

Chaika had no hesitation in her eyes.

This girl, younger than him, already had her purpose in sight and was moving toward it.

And what about him?

His life as a saboteur had been long gone… and now, unsure of what to do, he was wasting away in this backwater town. Compared to Chaika, he felt… utterly pathetic.

“…Toru?” Perhaps noticing the shadow in Toru’s expression, Chaika paused her work on the magical staff and peered at his face with concern. “Toru strong.” she, the silver-haired girl suddenly said.

“…Huh?”

“Many uses.”

“Oh—you mean my saboteur skills?”

“Yes.” Chaika nodded firmly. “Lots. Choices. Purposes. Endless options.”

……

That was true, wasn’t it?

Saboteurs were the battlefield’s “jack-of-all-trades” from melee combat to mixing explosives, spreading rumors, inciting crowds, building fortresses, procuring supplies—all the dirty work knights and warriors couldn’t handle, saboteurs took on.

Indeed, these skills were useful in everyday life.

They might not match specialists but with effort, that could be overcome. A saboteur could become a hunter, carpenter, blacksmith, merchant, anything, if they chose. Reaching the pinnacle of any field might be impossible, but for simply living, it was enough.

But—

“I…”

Toru didn’t know why he felt compelled to say it.

He’d never even told Akari face-to-face. Growing up in the Acura village, she might’ve sensed it, but still.

“I wanted to leave proof I’d lived.”

……Proof? 

“Yeah. That I was born, lived, died… that it meant something.”

……

The Acura village was a small hamlet nestled in the mountains. To be precise, it was a collective name for several nearby hamlets, but either way, it wasn’t an open place, with a narrow branch road was its only link to the outside world… practically a hidden village.

But even the Acura village wasn’t so self-sufficient as to cut off all ties with the outside, and to send out saboteurs, they needed some information channels. Thus, it was customary for a few regular traveling merchants to visit the Acura village as familiars.

For the Acura children, enduring grueling training day after day, the monthly arrival of the traveling merchants’ caravan was one of their few entertainments. The worldly tales they brought were, to Toru and Akari, dazzling dreams of another world. In breaks between training, the children swarmed the merchants, begging for stories.

Hasmin Uuro was a girl from one such merchant caravan.

A true traveling merchant, born and raised in the caravan. Her mother had given birth to her in a moving wagon—a hardcore pedigree. She lived rootless, traveling from place to place, but she seemed to take pride in her way of life.

“I’d be happy just living peacefully.”

Hasmin had said back then to the young saboteur trainees who innocently dreamed of battlefield heroics.

“Traveling everywhere. Seeing and hearing things. Experiencing it all. That’s enough for me.”

“But that leaves nothing behind.” The young Toru had told her.

Her view of life, her idea of happiness, was utterly unacceptable to him.

“When you die, it all vanishes.”

“Not true.” Hasmin had laughed. “I don’t need battlefield glory. I can leave my mark. The people I meet will remember me. Or—” Hasmin said, blushing slightly, her hand resting on her belly. “If I have a child, they’ll be my proof. Their children, too—my grandchildren. That’s how life connects.”

Toru, back then, didn’t know Hasmin was in love with a young man from the caravan, nor that she was already pregnant with his child.

When he found out, he was deeply depressed.

Looking back, Hasmin was probably his first love, of course, with a ten-year age gap, it wasn’t true love or perhaps the pseudo-romantic affection a child feels for a kind older woman. Though he couldn’t fully accept it, a few months later, Toru was able to wish her happiness.

In any case…

The caravan with Hasmin visited the Acura village twice more, and each time, her belly grew larger. Every meeting, Hasmin and her husband spoke eagerly of their unborn child.

But—

……

“The third time they came to the Acura village… Hasmin was dead.”

“…Dead!?”

Chaika, likely expecting a bittersweet first-love tale, looked startled by Toru’s sudden words.

“They were attacked. Bandits, maybe—I don’t actually know the reason.”

The caravan was wiped out.

Hasmin’s parents, her husband, all killed. Judging by the weapons, it was likely deserters from some army. The caravan, armed and guarded for frontier travel, was overwhelmed by numbers.

“I still remember it clearly.”

He saw it in his dreams, over and over.

A memory repeated so often it had become part of him.

Which became Impossible to forget.

Etched into his soul—a stigma.